


Inevitable

by CatieBrie



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: ?? - Freeform, Barebacking, Canon Compliant, Dirty Talk, Ed POV, Ed Swears, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, First Time, Greed/Ed - Freeform, Greedling plays with Ed's crush (ala Mustang), Hair-pulling, It's all consensual y'all, Ling/Ed, M/M, Mild Painplay, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, PWP, Rimming, Rough Sex, Single POV, but more a consequence of the pain kink, characters are canon compliant ages, inappropriate use of alchemy, inappropriate use of the ultimate shield, is it a threesome if two of the participants share one body?, mild bloodplay, sex to feel alive, takes place in canon before the Promised day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 09:02:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10383126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatieBrie/pseuds/CatieBrie
Summary: But Ed doesn’t mind it, he really doesn’t mind it, when Ling―Greed―fuck―Greedling drags nails just this side of too sharp down Ed’s chest and Ed finds himself arching up into the pressure until the skin breaks. Ed swallows a moan, Greedling stares and the papery bark between Ed’s shoulder-blades scrapes in counterbalance to the cuts welling up on his chest creating a pain-pleasure feedback loop that Ed doesn’t want to stop. He needs this to calm down the ever circling, consuming doubts and worries and plans that have crowded his skull since he separated from Al, since he learned of the Promised Day.  He needs to reset, he needs to feel alive.--AKA porn in the woods with a rogue homunculus, a shifty prince and an alchemist who just needs to reset. (Guest starring Mustang's desk, because dirty talk).





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [evann](https://archiveofourown.org/users/evann/gifts).



> So this is my first foray into the FMA fandom and it turned into complete and utter filth. It's a vague prompt fill for my lovely friend who wanted Greedling and Ed smut and well, that's certainly what she got. This all vaguely takes place when Ed's traipsing around with Greedling, Darius and Heinkel. Roy doesn't make an actual, physical appearance but he plays a heavy part in the second half of dirty talk, so if Roy/Ed isn't your cup of tea I apologize.
> 
> As a side note, I spent an inordinate amount of time looking up the toxicity levels of trees and viscosity levels of sap before I ran into birch water. It's a real thing--its usage here...is probably not.
> 
> Lastly, I chose not to use archive warnings because of how I interpret them, but these guys are teenagers!

As fingers tear at his shirt, Ed comes to a conclusion.

This is inevitable.

“ _Motherfucker_! Did you have to shred my _only_ shirt?”

Greed wants everything Ling has, and having sex with Ed is something Ling has had a lot of.

“It was in the way.”

But Ed doesn’t mind it, he _really_ doesn’t mind it, when Ling―Greed― _fuck_ ― _Greedling_ drags nails just this side of too sharp down Ed’s chest and Ed finds himself arching up into the pressure until the skin breaks. Ed swallows a moan, Greedling stares and the papery bark between Ed’s shoulder-blades scrapes in counterbalance to the cuts welling up on his chest creating a pain-pleasure feedback loop that Ed doesn’t want to stop. He needs this to calm down the ever circling, consuming doubts and worries and plans that have crowded his skull since he separated from Al, since he learned of the Promised Day.  He needs to reset, he needs to feel alive.

“Damn, kid.” Greedling―no, that’s definitely Greed―sounds scratchy-breathless as his fingers slip in the slight sheen of new blood, splaying out and stinging along the ribbony wounds.  He shoves a bit with his palm, uncurling Ed’s spine until it’s flush against the tree and Ed reaches out in response to tug at Greed’s vest, because really, it doesn’t quite seem fair that Ed’s the only one topless-going-on-bottomless in this exchange.

“Fucking strip already, you prick.”  Ed yanks until the black fabric strains against the metal of his automail fingers and the fastenings running down the front. His hips hiccup against the weight of Greed’s thigh between his legs, and the friction is almost enough to distract him from his quest.   

Greed’s eyes spark moonlit-garnet and he smirks as he pulls back and away from Ed’s grasping hands and rolling hips.  “Nu-uh, kid, I’m calling the shots here and I think I’ll just―”

Ed growls, drops his weight and claps, pressing his palms to Greed’s clothing in a flash of alchemical discharge as he falls onto his haunches. His back _burns_ as it drags against bark, but it’s worth it when fabric jumps apart neatly along the seams, becoming nothing but so much useless, trailing cloth without stitching to hold it together.  Ed has the space of a breath to appreciate the familiar, corded lines of Greed’s thighs, the valiant jut of his cock as it stands at attention against the cold air, before hands are fisted into the hair at his crown and his head is yanked back hard enough to collide with the trunk behind him.

“You’ll fix those,” Greed snarls, kicking aside the cloth that has mostly fallen away from his frame to pool like cotton shadows at his feet. They join the remains of Ed’s shirt, and Ed has to snort despite his watering eyes; at least Greed’s clothes are salvageable.  

“And if I don’t?”  Ed taunts, writhing against the hold on his hair.  His leather pants―already too tight from the start―constrict his erection painfully, but Ed resists the urge to unbutton and free himself, more interested in where Greed will take this; that said, if Greed doesn’t follow through soon Ed might just start screaming.

The curl of Greed’s mouth sharpens upwards as Ed’s struggling draws his attention to Ed’s compromised kneeling, a position Ed intentionally put himself in so that _they would get somefuckingwhere already._ “I can think of a few things.”

“Fuckin’ promises.” Ed grins back, teeth bared like jagged edges of porcelain. Ed thinks that he should probably be nervous, that he should probably not antagonize a goddamn _homunculus_ when Ed’s literally on his knees and effectively pinned between a near-unbreakable being and a tree, but his blood thrums with fire and it drips off his tongue as he eggs Greed on, “hurry up or switch with Ling, I ain’t got time to waste on your―”

“Shut up and open your damn mouth, brat.” Greed yanks against Ed’s hair again and Ed gasps against the pain but lets his mouth fall open when he realizes what Greed wants.  Greed uses his grip to hold Ed’s head in place, stepping close enough to Ed that the head of his cock brushes a streak of precum across the bridge of his nose.  Ed resists the urge to growl and he surges up, knees digging into the dirt as his hands―previously fisted and fidgeting against his thighs in an attempt not to touch himself―grab Greed’s hips with bruising force, holding him steady as he swallows Greed down halfway.     

“Oh, you little shit,” Greed groans, appreciative, one hand letting go of Ed’s hair to brace against the thin tree at Ed’s back.  The other remains tangled to keep Ed in place as Greed slowly thrusts into Ed’s mouth.

And it’s a surprise to Ed that nerves don’t much factor into any of this.  That, _really_ , the only thing factoring into his admittedly clumsy attempts to drag Greed all the way down his throat, is a heat that burns bright enough to scorch along his ribcage.  _I am alive_ , it scribes in jagged, charcoal lines across the bones, _I don’t know for how long, but right now, I am fucking_ alive _._ He chokes, eyes watering even as he urges Greed to move faster, to use him until his throat’s so raw he can’t speak, his lips bruised, his skin singing.  He groans and swallows convulsively around the intrusion, hollowing his cheeks as Greed fucks his mouth properly.  The fingers of his flesh hand slip in sweat, nails scrabbling for purchase hard enough that he leaves his own bleeding marks in Greed’s skin―they disappear in fading flashes of red.

“He’s watching, you know,” Greed growls, words punctuated by heaving grunts of air and it’s all Ed can do now to breath himself, to concentrate on keeping his throat open and his teeth covered, but the words still manage to strike electricity along Ed’s nerves, dragging his attention to his own neglected cock.  “Why don’t you put on a show for him?”

Ed takes this as permission to shove his hand past the waistband of his trousers, fingers wrapping around and tugging urgently―but the material is too constrictive, the angle wrong and he keens, frustrated before remembering he has two perfectly good (well, mostly good) hands and he lets go of Greed’s hip with his other hand, fumbling to push his trousers and boxes down his thighs.  The cold air shocks a muffled noise from the base of his throat, more vibration than sound, but then he’s fucking into the curve of his hand as Greed fucks into his mouth and the cold has nothing on the way his core burns.

“That’s lovely,” Greed pants, spine bending as he leans further into the tree, slides impossibly deeper down Ed’s throat.  Ed won’t last much longer, he can feel his orgasm building painfully at the base of his spine, drawing his muscles into rocky tension, but Greed gets there first without a word of warning. Ed gags, sputtering when Greed suddenly yanks him back, ropes of cum spattering across his face and into his hair.

Ed would rail against that, he _would_ , but with a strangled cry, his own paroxysm steals his breath away, harsh and violent as their coupling had been. His forehead drops to Greed’s thigh, slipping a bit in the gathered sweat, and his hands splay across the ground to keep his balance; he can feel debris gather in the cum smeared across his flesh hand, but he doesn't care.  His body thrums through the aftershocks, a brief spot of bliss―but it doesn’t last long.  He’s wound too tight, energy curling as the need to just forget for the night overrides the lethargy―he’s positive that Greed(Ling) will oblige.   

“You fucked up my hair,” Ed grumbles, shaking a bit as the sweat cools. He sits back on his heels, forehead peeling away from the skin he'd rested it on; it takes him a moment to remember what stuck them together and Ed grimaces, resisting the urge to drag a leafy hand across his face.  “I would have swallowed. What the hell?”

“It’s a good look on you.”  The voice is far too chipper to be Greed and Ed rolls his eyes, dramatic enough that there’s no way Ling will miss it, even in the dim light.  Ling continues, musing, “Greed agrees. It appeals to his possessiveness.”

“‘M not a thing,” Ed glares at Ling as he pushes himself up, rubbing his hands together to knock away the worst of the mess there.  His nearly stumbles kicking his leather pants away, one ankle catching.  Ling laughs.  “Just an employee.”

“Noooooo, you’re _way_ too much fun to be just that!” Ling chirps bending so that he’s nearly eye level with Ed, exaggerating the motion in a way Ed fucking knows is a comment on his height.  He opens his mouth to say as much, but Ling steamrollers past.  “I didn’t realize how delightful it would be to watch you get your mouth fucked by someone else―it’s _gorgeous_.”

“It’s _your_ fucking body, you crazy-ass prince,” Ed snaps, but his cheeks heat up against the cold at the reminder that he’d had an audience. “You see the same damn thing when _you_ do it.”

“But it’s not the same,” Ling enthuses.  And then he smiles, wide and bright, before swiping his tongue up the side of Ed’s cum-sticky cheek.

“Argh! _Gross,_ why would you―” Ed splutters, cut off as Ling shoves his tongue between Ed’s lips; Ed struggles for a second, a token shove at Ling’s shoulders, before melting into the kiss.  He likes kissing Ling, loves it actually, and has done since they started messing about months ago, but it’s never been quite this _filthy_. He swallows around Ling’s tongue, chasing the bitter-salt of Greed’s spend back into Ling’s mouth.  He’s shoved hard against the tree, his scraped shoulderblades singing out, and he tugs Ling into him with enough force that their teeth clack and he nearly bites his tongue.  He does catch his lip at one corner; copper and hot tin floods over the taste of cum and it worries Ed that his cock jumps and shows interest in that.

“You like it,” Ling sings, his certainty rankling―mostly because it’s fucking true, but still, Ed doesn’t have to like that Ling has such a pinpoint read on his ticks and turn-ons.  

“You’re a dick.” Ed tilts his head to let Ling nuzzle into his throat, groaning at the edge of teeth that scrapes down his pulse point. Ling chuckles, smearing his hands across Ed’s chest, calluses catching in the half-clotted cuts from Greed and his damned nails. Ed whimpers when Ling pinches both of Ed’s nipples, tugging just enough to hurt, as he mouths along the spiderwebbed scars at Ed’s shoulder.  

“And you’re a brat.” Ling steps back from Ed, smile sharpening into a smirk, and then Ed’s flipped, sternum smacking into the trunk; his face barely misses the same fate, caught by the curve of Ling’s palm but Ed snarls, scrabbling to get his arms underneath his chest so that he can push himself back.  Ling, however, drapes over him, effectively nullifying those attempts. “Can I have my turn now?”

“Get offa me, you’re fucking heavy.”  Ed can’t get comfortable against the narrow expanse of papery bark, but that doesn’t seem to matter to Ling as he mouths at Ed’s back, hands roaming over Ed’s flanks, then down between his legs to gently squeeze his balls. Ed resists the urge to roll his hips into the touch and manages to get his hands beneath him, allowing himself to balance.  “And what do you mean, your turn?”

“My turn to fuck you, of course.”

“You’re a goddamn pervert,” Ed grumbles, face hot enough to tingle, but his cock has started to fill out in earnest now. The cold raises goosebumps along his skin not covered by Ling and he shivers, nails digging into the papery bark until he can feel slivers of it bite into his flesh.  Everything is sensation in opposition, the pleasure of Ling’s touch and the pain of open, scrubbed raw wounds; cold winter-kissed air and summer heated flesh―it’s enough to drive Ed to madness.

“Kettle, black and all that,” Ling quips and traces his hand up along Ed’s shaft, twisting graceful fingers over the head; Ed whimpers, hips stuttering into the touch involuntarily and Ling chuckles, point fucking proven. “Speaking of fucking, I know you enjoy it rough, but do you have anything to make things...smoother?”

“Yeah, sure, I keep a fucking bottle of lube shoved up my ass for just this sort of thing.”

“Oh, how convenient!”

“I fucking hate you.” Ed frowns at the trunk in front of him, trying to filter through and modify arrays as Ling trails kisses down the line of his spine.  They’d had trees like this near Brigg’s, hadn’t they?

“Use your witchcraft.” Ling drops down to his knees, nuzzling his nose into the dip of Ed’s lower back, fingers kneading into his asscheeks.

“It’s not witchcraft, you dumbass, it’s science,” Ed says and he knows rolling his eyes is a completely useless practice when Ling can’t see his face, but he does it anyway.  The perfect circle suddenly lights up in his head and despite himself he grins, excited. Clapping his hands together, he presses them to the tree in a jolt of alchemical discharge and burst of ozone; a slick, clear liquid oozes from between pieces of papery bark, smooth underneath his fingertips.  Ed would have liked a moment to crow over his victory, pleased at drawing out the sap and oils of the tree into a safe-to-consume lubricant, but Ling has taken advantage of his kneeling position to pries Ed apart and lave his tongue over the furl of his asshole.  Ed buries his face into the trunk and screams.

Ling doesn’t let up, the tip of his tongue breaching Ed, driving forward between tight muscle in shallow thrusts. He slides his tongue back up along every inch of sensitive skin that he can reach, licking at the divot at the base of Ed’s back before returning to rimming Ed, wet, sloppy, perfect. The breeze, cold and biting, lights up the path of Ling’s tongue like frosted fireworks and Ed slides his legs farther apart, arching his spine inward to throw his hips back in invitation, wanting Ling to invade him.  And Ling does, hands wrapped around Ed’s hips, palms searing against Ed’s skin.  Ed’s knees wobble, jellied, and he tries hard not to moan, not to scream yet again, but it’s painful to bury the sounds in his chest when he wants nothing more than to drop down and completely submit to whatever it is that Ling is doing to him.

“So I noticed something,” Ling says, replacing his tongue with a finger. He nips at the swell of Ed’s ass when Ed doesn’t immediately respond and Ed gives an aborted yelp, nearly losing his balance on the tree, flesh hand shaking.  

 _“What_?”

“You like being watched, don’t you?”

Ed doesn’t say anything and receives another hard bite for his trouble.  He snarls, even as he jerks back against the finger in his ass, and his voice comes out stuttered, not intimidating,“‘The h-hell’re you on about?”

“Well, I’m curious―” he drags his tongue over the bites, as if in apology, but Ed knows better. They’ve never once apologized to the other and _meant_ it, there’s no point.  “―can it be anybody? I mean, obviously, I turn you on.”

“Don’t flatter yours― _shit_!”

“Do you like that Greed’s watching, waiting to take back over to fuck you properly?” Ling continues blithely as if he hadn’t just shoved another finger alongside the first. He stands, fingers hooked in Ed, and Ed feels Ling’s erection skim the small of his back as Ling leans forward. His free hand swipes through the clear, silky sap Ed alchemized from the tree and it glistens, slick and sweet-smelling across long fingers. Ed resists the urge suck those fingers into his mouth―instead concentrating on keeping his footing, on the fingers still moving just a shade too dry within him. Ed almost doesn’t hear Ling breath into his ear over the sound of his own frustrated keening, “he’s jealous I’ve had you like this before, I’m not sure he’ll let me finish before taking a piece himself.”

“You both talk way too fucking much,” Ed bites out, shivering against the cold of the birch water dripping between his asscheeks, the silkiness of it catching on Ling’s thrusting fingers to ease their passage.  Ed’s not sure if the sudden wet noises are from that or Ling slicking his cock with whatever remained on his other hand, but he hopes, desperately hopes it’s the latter.

“What if it were Winry?”

Ed’s heart gives a weird little stutter at the thought, not entirely repelled by it but certainly not as interested as he’d been at the thought of Ling watching him.

“Interesting…” Ling adds a third finger and Ed gasps. “What about your little brother?”

“Fuck no!”  Ed recoils hard enough to knock his forehead against the trunk. Ling laughs, loud and delighted and shameless.

“Fair enough. Let’s see...You have a grandmother, right?”

“I swear to you I will transmute your fucking prick off if you don’t―”

“What about that superior officer of yours, Colonel Mustang?”

Ed’s entire body freezes as heat like a wave of flame (and fuck that particular simile hard in the ass, thank you very much) rushes over him, raising a flush Ed is sure traces all the way down his back. The very idea is enough to leave him breathless, clawing at the bark to once again balance himself as his knees attempt to liquify and flood into his toes.  But Ling, damn him to hell, keeps talking, laughter in every word.

“So you’d like him to watch, would you? To see you spread open and taken―certainly he’s got a large desk, that would be ideal.”  Ling removes his fingers and Ed’s too far gone, too mortified, too turned on to muster more than a faint groan at the loss.  Kicking Ed’s ankles a bit further apart, Ling places both hands on either side of Ed’s ass and does exactly as he described, slowly sliding in.  

“How would he react, do you think?” One slow agonizing thrust in, out. “Would he just watch as I fucked you hard on his desk?  Or would he hold you in place, keep you from falling over the other side?”

“Ling, _please_ ,” Ed’s not sure if he’s pleading for Ling to stop or to continue because he’s barely holding on now, wrapped in the image of Mustang’s desk underneath him, paperwork―ever-present and usually towering―scattered everywhere as Ed tries to find a handhold.  Mustang would watch, at first, legs crossed as he reclines in that stupidly large chair of his, glass-edged smirk five kinds of knowing and ten kinds of unreadable.  

“I guess it would depend if I had you on your back or stomach―” Ed nearly screams as Ling pulls back and then snaps his hips forward, the sound of flesh colliding loud and lewd in the night air.  “On your back, he could hold you―trace his hands down your chest, pull you off.  But on your front―”

Ling grabs both of Ed’s hips to hold him in place as he continues to fuck into Ed, hard and deep, nearly painful. “―on your front you could suck him off as I fuck you.”

Ed is ruined―ruined by the images Ling’s dragging to the surface, sharp with the combined detail of what Ed knows of Mustang’s office and what he’s just done with Greed, mouth still smarting.  It wouldn’t be a good angle, Mustang is too tall and Ed would suffocate trying to swallow around him, but that doesn’t stop his imagination from altering and pinning together a perfect fucking fantasy.

“Do you think he’d get off watching me prove you’re _mine_?”  Ed’s not certain who’s in control now, he can’t see Greedling’s eyes to check if they’ve remained dark or if they’ve bled into wine, but the possessive spasm of fingers at his hips are sharp and hard and frankly, Ed doesn’t _care._

And then Greedling’s cock hardens, becomes an unforgiving rigidness that has Ed wailing as it forces him open even farther, drives him even closer to the edge.  Ed wants nothing more than to touch himself, but if he lets go of the tree trunk he’ll collapse and there’s nothing short of the Promised Day itself that could convince him to jeopardize Greedling’s rhythm. In the end, he doesn’t have to as Greedling bends over him, one hand sliding up Ed’s ribs and the other wrapping around his waist to grip Ed’s cock, fingers stroking easily over the heated flesh, wet with precome.

“Come for me, Fullmetal.” And fucking hell the voice is deep and gravelly enough to pass in that one, lust addled moment as Mustang and Ed loses it, shouting wordlessly as he comes for the second time that night.  He loses his balance then, but Greedling keeps him standing just long enough to finish, spilling into Ed with an erratic thrust and a bite to the base of Ed’s neck to muffle his shout.

A beat passes, Ed panting and drowsing on an endorphin and oxytocin high that does everything to keep embarrassment at bay, and then he wobbles.  Greedling wobbles with him, sliding out and slowly guiding them to the ground as Ed’s eyes try desperately to fall shut around sleep and his knee finally gives up the good fight.  He nearly dozes off for a moment, filthy and naked and sated, curled up against Greedling’s chest, before slurring an emphatic, “ _Fuck._ ”

“You can say that again.” A chuckle vibrates against Ed’s back and then Greedling shifts, pulling Ed closer like a particularly metallic blanket. “We need to clean up and get dressed before we freeze.”

“Sure, lemme just―” Ed trails off, lazily clapping his hands together before placing them to the scraps of their clothing. “Okay, there, clothes. I’m gunna sleep.”

“Don’t you dare, I don’t want to have to carry your―”

But Ed’s stopped listening, happy to let sleep tug him away if it means inconveniencing Greedling. He’ll be insufferably smug in the morning, so Ed might as well get his _fuck you_ in now.

**Author's Note:**

> Why is Ed's crush on Roy so heavily abused here? I'm glad you asked, it's because I have every intention of writing a sequel a few years in the future featuring him, Ling and Ed. And the desk.
> 
> Also, I support all ships so no bashing was intended towards the end, it's just what fit into this particular permutation of the characters and story (hah, like there's actually a story here and not just unrepentant porn)
> 
> As a final note, can you imagine poor Darius and Heinkel?? There's no way they didn't hear all this going on.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this and thank you for reading it! If you want to talk with me, I'm on [twitter](https://twitter.com/CatieBrieFic) and [tumblr](http://catie-brie.tumblr.com/), so come hangout with me there!


End file.
